I’m embarking on another challenging journey, personal in a different way. The past year, I’ve stared my inner demons in the face and really tried to make active steps to overcome them. Granted, I’m not completely over them or “fixed” now, but I can look back and say I’ve definitely grown. In being more accepting of my circumstances, on accepting that there are things I can’t control and to focus on what I can. In dealing with looming health issues and finding a community that I can connect with in a different way than my other friends can relate to. To understand when a place is not contributing to my life in any positive way and to say no and allow that to be okay to remove yourself from it, having tried.

Now I want to challenge myself by confronting another part of myself that gives me a lack of confidence. This is the part of me that feels useless and like I don’t do enough with my time here. And I want to see if I’m able enough to handle and help with other people’s problems since I’ve been through so many unique experiences. I want to be useful with my time and intentional in my actions. And hopefully I’ll grow from it too and learn more about myself along the way- my capabilities, my limit for compassion, my ability to be empathetic.

There was this one time when my parents and I were on vacation in Canada and my mom and I had gotten into a fight the previous night; I was about maybe twelve years old. The next morning, we ate at the hotel complimentary breakfast with the expected aftermath of awkwardness in the air- I kept my eyes lowered to shield my puffy red eyes under my hat. There weren’t many other people around, but I remember seeing two tanned men sitting near us at the next table. I was in a foul mood, angry with the world and still upset at something my mom had said earlier; my feeling ashamed reflected clearly in my flushed face.

I was so lost in my own world of sulky thoughts that I only barely took notice that my mom had left the table to get more food. Soon after, my dad also got up to head to an aisle leading to the men’s room, leaving me alone. The next minute, I was whipped out of my thoughts by a man who approached me, pointing furiously towards the direction my dad had left in and jabbering in a foreign language. His panic was infectious. The first thing that came to my mind was that something had happened to my dad: he had a heart attack, he had passed out, there was a fire. I hesitated and stood up as the man bolted off – confused, I wondered if I should follow him or call the police.

Next thing was my mom’s alarmed voice; she had come back and immediately exclaimed, “Where’s my bag?!”

I glanced around to the chairs around me, and only saw mine. That was the moment I realized that I had been hoodwinked. The men who were sitting near us were gone. The police arrived and questioned us, and after watching the security footage, confirmed that the two men had dashed out the backdoor. The police told us that it was one of a few cases that had happened recently in the neighborhood hotels in the same exact fashion. The next hour was filled with my mom calling various places to cancel her credit card accounts, phone accounts, and anything else the police advised her to do. My mom’s camera, phone, and unfortunately, more than half a thousand dollars cash had been in her favorite bag. She said she had forgotten to remove all the cash since her recent trip to Taiwan where she wanted to exchange some of it for Taiwanese money.

The shock that had hit all of us that early afternoon had us immediately forget, or rather, let go of any ill feelings harbored towards each other. I remember feeling a mixture of emotions. I felt guilty that I had not watched our things more carefully, that I had so naively been fooled by that guy, who must’ve distracted me to one side so that his accomplice could grab my mom’s bag to the other side of me. I felt a bit regretful that so much money had been lost, especially since my younger parents worked hard to save up money.

I also felt tremendous relief that nothing in fact, had happened to my dad; he was okay. My mom was okay, I was okay, we were all okay. Nobody had held me at gunpoint or knifepoint threatening to kill us if we hadn’t handed over our possessions.

I also felt the weight of grudges just a couple hours ago melt into incredible gratitude, realizing by comparison the full pettiness of my sulky world. One argument was a bad grain of sand in the spectrum of our lives. Even though I don’t count myself as particularly religious, I remembered thinking that this incident must have been God’s reminder to me to wake up and understand that much worse things could happen at any given time.

We really tend to see what we don’t have, and what others do have. Even on days where I’m in tremendous pain physically or emotionally, or my car broke down, I would just think, if only I didn’t have to deal with this shit. How much better the day would be if I just wasn’t in pain, if the car just worked and I could get to my friend or my groceries. That’s how we see that the ordinary, “boring” events are actually extraordinary.

Today, some tragedy could’ve happened that left my family homeless. Today, I could be so destitute that I don’t have enough money to buy dinner. Today, I could’ve lost a loved one. Today, I could’ve found out someone I loved didn’t love me back anymore. Today, I could be feeling so depressed that I want to kill myself. Today, I could be lying in the hospital again, just wishing that I could sleep in my own bed and get a hot shower.

Today, none of those things happened, and I did get to feed myself, sleep in my own bed, and take a hot shower.

I was in the car the other day and musing over the whole “glass half full, glass half empty” cliche. Maybe we’re missing the point when we look at it that way. Maybe the truth to finding Zen and acceptance of everything around us, including the shitty parts, is to see the glass itself. That the glass exists at all. That we have a glass. That we have water at all. It could all so easily be nothing, just empty space floating into more nothingness.

-Just a passing thought about how to find happiness and peace since that is something I’ve struggled with my whole life.

Reminder though, that even though we should strive to be more appreciative and notice all that we do have, it’s still okay to let yourself feel the sad parts too. We’re wrapped up in a society that expects us to feel fine all the time or try to get us there (“Feel better!” “You’ll be okay” “I’m sorry” other crap etc.). Is that true healing? No. You have to walk through the tunnel to get to the other side, there is no shortcut. You can’t magically Apparate or sprout wings over the tunnel. What we can do for each other? For true empathy, be there for one another. Rather than a “Feel better”, I want to live in a society where we hold each other’s hand. We offer an embrace, we tell them yes, what they’re going through sucks, but I’m here for you. I will walk with you through the tunnel. You’re not alone.

There’s a difference between finding pleasure in sulking in misery, and brushing off any pain like it’s nothing. Validation, entitlement, to your feelings… I guess it’s a bit of a fine line sometimes depending on perspective. There’s a balance.

I’ll admit that this is one of my faults too. I’m a hypocrite, because I have told people to “feel better” before. Because when I feel their burden, I just can’t. I can’t even handle my own burdens sometimes. “Put the oxygen mask over yourself before helping others put their masks on” <— wise words of a flight attendant. But I’m working on it, and I wish more people would just give more of a shit to be honest.

While I don’t claim to be perfect, in fact far from it, (read this post on Empathy, which makes me feel the burden of the world in addition to my own..), I refuse to lower my standards and expectations of the people I surround myself with. Ever hear the philosophy that you are judged and influenced by the people you’re friends with? That’s true. More than ever. I want you to at the very least, want to change for the better. The beauty of never being able to reach perfection is that there is always, always, room for improvement and growth. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t expect to surround myself with “perfect” people- I expect us to grow together. But what does one do when you actually feel like your own growth is stunted by others? And if one is too “forgiving” or too accepting of the status quo, too content, too stagnant, how does anyone know how much more potential they can reach? I’m dissatisfied because others are too complacent with themselves.

Then comes the frustration, but also the acceptance that we can’t force people to change if they don’t want to, as I am constantly reminded this past year.

I feel a bit like a failure, because regarding myself, I’m not sure I added much happiness or growth to anyone else’s life that I met this year – did I make a difference, a positive impact in their lives? I don’t know, but I hope so. Sometimes, we don’t always get to see the fruits of our labor and the ripple effect of the ripple we dropped in the water.

But at the end of the day, I’m burnt out, I gave it my all, and I have no regrets. It started out good, but now I don’t know what the point of my presence is here anymore… It’s time to let go and break up. At least for the time being.

I don’t know why but my fascination for this Myers-Briggs test has resurfaced in the past few days… also I found out it’s Myers-Briggs, not Briggs-Myers… well not that it’s that important what order it’s said.

My interest in psychology has grown stronger in recent years, and I wish I was able to AP Psych or some sort of class in college. According to the test, as an INFJ I have an uncanny ability to empathize, read, and understand other people intuitively. I see my own strengths and weaknesses more clearly while browsing through the articles of my personality type, and out of the three or four times I’ve taken it, I am almost undoubtedly an INFJ. I wish I wasn’t so sensitive and stressed out about other people’s issues in addition to mine, but I hope to handle it better now that I’m an adult, and push my abilities to better the world in some way or another.

Letting go of pride. A lot of self-care and confidence is reframing how you feel about yourself, and letting go of pride enough to realize that you can still retain your dignity even when you feel you’ve lost it. As much as I tell others that sharing and revealing a part of your soul makes you feel like you’re vulnerable like an open, bleeding wound to others, it’s part of what makes you human- the first part is letting others know what you’re going through so that they can help you. The second part is that despite our worst fears that we look silly or weak, I’d say 95% of the time, you just simply earn more respect for speaking up and being open in the first place.. it increases trust, and you are a leader in paving the way for others to see your imperfectness, so that they may allow themselves to become vulnerable too and share.

Yesterday, at girl’s group, I took out my inhaler and used it, then joked about gargling. All of them watched me, and asked me questions about it, especially the ones working in hospitals. I was feeling confident, or rather, content, and somehow that made it feel safe and okay to talk about my inhaler and not make me feel like I was isolating or making myself look like a sick person. And it felt good.

So I forced myself to drive out to the university where spring retreat was being held- I had seen many pictures of this place in all the pictures I stalked when I first befriended my fellowship friends last summer so I was curious to check it out. The night before, my anxiety kept me up all night with me knowing I should show up at a respectful time to participate, especially since I felt guilty that I had not paid anything and had not planned to come, much less stay. Nobody knows how hard it is to push the small part of yourself through all the anxiety and fear, simply to challenge yourself to be present in the experiences of life, no matter what they are. Something so natural to someone else, like looking forward to how fun retreat is, or a vacation, is stressful to me no matter what.

Anyway, as usual, there were things I was not too keen on, one of them being the Sunday message given by the pastor (more on that in another post), but one of the most crazy experiences this Sunday was testimony. To be honest, I was a little apprehensive as the last testimony I witnessed was during their Thanksgiving dinner led by the pastor… it felt a bit forced and inauthentic, with every single tumor that disappeared, every mini good thing that happened, resounding in ‘PRAISE THE LORD.’

I thought it was strange that testimony was scheduled for more than an hour as nobody spoke for the first five to ten minutes. However, slowly but surely, one by one people went up to speak. These felt spoken from the heart. One kid was in high school, and he talked about how he felt he was in a dark place, and was depressed that he wasn’t getting good grades. He said he knew that it might get better, yet he might regret if he didn’t speak up about it. Another who really got to me was Donna, Bobby’s mom who lost both her father and her husband AND got cancer all around the same time… nuts. She apologized for being difficult to be around and also spoke of her pain and gratitude for the kids especially. It was really hard to listen to her, but I felt her suffering, and a couple people were crying with her. It was so real, and I was almost tempted to go up and talk about my experiences too, except I still don’t know if I’m completely convinced of the beliefs in the bible and I still question a lot of things… but I do wish I have the courage one day to speak up, and at least talk about my personal experiences or give a word to encourage others, especially the younger kids.

What are the main differences between pity, sympathy, and empathy? Are there two different levels of empathy? A. Having gone through the same, or very similar experience where you understand deeply B. Can understand as explained to you, as you willingly strive to seek out understanding of another’s experiences

What determines what is art and what is not? Is it enough that it makes one feel an emotion, or an opinion? What about if something is crudely done in controversy? Perhaps this is how famous celebrities (Kim K, Andy Warhol, Trump, the Pepsi commercial) garner publicity knowingly and manipulatively

Everything in life mainly revolves around the goal of Efficiency, which will lead to Effectiveness. Example: Why Marie Kondo’s book on tidying and organizing became a bestseller as we have so much waste and crap in our houses. It is how I learned to memorize my music with intent and away from the piano, more intensely in less time, but more mentally draining regardless. Creative design should also focus on minimize waste, energy, time. Should the same concept be applied for empathy?

Things that are wasteful but shouldn’t be… 40% groceries wasted away in the average American household- why??

Taco Bell sauce packets

Throwing away or not having anywhere to place reusable teabags…

What are my strengths and current goals? Curiosity, focus, and intense determination

How do we increase efficiency in obtaining empathy in each other in a simple, direct manner that makes sense? –> perspective of woman translating well for men. Struggles of Asian Americans and immigrants, their story to become understanding or more relatable.

About Me

I like red pandas and the color orange. This is my stage jolting down thoughts about social and cultural issues, which include chronic illness, physical and mental health, the environment, feminism, race relations. Some in-between personal journaling.
Just wandering around trying to find my niche in the world